Chapter Seven #2
For being alive. For being able to hear his voice.
For having a chance at having a good life, again.
Her life hadn’t been bad over the past month, though.
It wasn’t the exciting life she’d previously led, but working at Harvey Farms and spending time in Pine Hill wasn’t as torturous as she’d once imagined it would be.
Not wanting to say any of those things out loud, Maggie took a bite of the creamiest macaroni and cheese she’d ever tasted. “I’m thankful for this mac and cheese. It’s good enough to be classified as a dessert.”
His eyes said he knew what she was doing, but he let her, smiling, and saying, “You’re making me regret not having gotten any. I was trying to watch my carbs.”
Glancing at his carb-laden plate, she gave him a skeptical look. “I see that.”
“Hey, I have some greens,” he defended.
“Most of which are in casserole form,” she pointed out.
He chuckled. “There’s nothing like good ole southern cooking.”
Wrapping her mouth around her spoon, Maggie nodded, chewed her mac and cheese, then sighed with unexpected contentment. “I agree. Best comfort food ever.”
She saw the flicker of curiosity light in his eyes, braced herself for him asking what she needed comfort from.
Instead, he didn’t push, just launched into a tale about how he’d thought Zoie was finally going to take her first steps earlier that day, but that she still hadn’t.
Occasionally, his gaze would shift to where his sister and coworker were enjoying their meal and each other.
Maggie’s did, too, as she found herself a little envious of how they unabashedly gazed at each other.
Not envious, she corrected. Oh, to be so young and foolish.
Her gaze meeting Walker’s, Maggie swallowed. Fortunately for her, she’d already been taught that hard life lesson and aced the class.
*
“I do not understand why we have to be present for this. It’s not as if anyone can’t tell who crosses the finish line first.”
Walker grinned at Maggie’s assessment. She wore jeans and a dark Pine Hill Christmas 5K long-sleeved T-shirt that matched the one he wore.
Her blond hair was pulled back in a no-nonsense ponytail, but with loose bits covering her ears.
The early morning cold had her nose and cheeks pink. She looked beautiful.
“Because someone has to tally the points for each team. Why not the judges?”
“I suppose.” She paced back and forth at the tent that had been set up at the combined start and finish line just off the town square. Roads were blocked all over town to keep the runners and walkers safe.
“Not a morning person?” he teased.
“Actually, I am. I’m just not a judge a 5K person.”
He laughed. “We could always be grateful Sarah didn’t ask us to run in the 5K.”
“There is that,” she conceded. “I think it’s more the whole basis of the 5K.
I mean, I’ve only known of 5K where it was individual participants not teams. Especially not teams named after something to do with Christmas.
I mean, Rudolph’s Runners? Santa’s Little Elfs?
North Pole Nannies? Christmas Cruisers?” She glanced back at the list. “Christmas Morning Magic? Seriously?”
Walker laughed. “Well, it is part of the Grandma Games.”
“I’m grateful for the shortening of the name.”
“Rather than us saying the Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer games every time?” he asked. “I admit that it’s a mouthful, but I’ve heard rumors that you’re behind the name.”
Maggie visibly deflated. “This is me hanging my head in shame.”
“Why? The name has brought a lot of attention to the Christmas festivities. The rivalry between the teams is the talk of the town.”
Maggie arched a brow. “Dare I ask what you mean?”
“The Bells-a-Ringing Butterflies and the Hallelujah HoneyBs…” He put emphasis on the names. “Have been signing folks up left and right for this as part of their teams. It’s been a great fundraiser for the animal shelter.”
Maggie’s expression softened. “Sarah has been ecstatic at how many signed up.”
He nodded looking out at the people lining the street to cheer on friends and family. “Half the town is here.”
There was a crowd. Each of the ten teams got a point for every runner-walker they’d signed up who crossed the finish line. Three teams had stood out. The Bells-a-Ringing Butterflies, the Hallelujah HoneyBs, and the Christmas Cruisers.
Despite the competitiveness of the groups, as each runner-walker crossed the line, everyone cheered.
Whoops and high fives were abundant when a more brightly dressed walker came into view.
Maggie recognized the blue-haired woman as Rosie.
As did all the Butterflies, she wore bright red sweats with green furry cuffs and collars.
A large sequined Christmas tree adorned the front and a butterfly sparkled mid-back of their matching shirts.
Ringing a bell with one hand, Rosie waved to the crowd with the other as if she was working the stage at a beauty pageant.
The HoneyBs had yellow long-sleeved sweatshirts with Christmas trees adorned with glittery bee ornaments. The Christmas Cruisers were a group of veterans who ran a local motorcycle club. They’d gone for black shirts with a patriotic red, white, and blue Christmas tree on the front.
Coming up behind where Rosie walked, Maybelle chatted to a tall white-haired man wearing one of the black long-sleeved shirts as they made their way toward the finish line. “Who’s the biker guy with Maybelle? I’m surprised Rosie isn’t tackling her for fraternizing with the competition.”
“That’s John. He was at Claudia’s the other night. It was so crowded, and since we ate in the garage, you may have missed him.” Walker glanced toward where Maybelle walked with the elderly man. “Maybelle says he’s just a friend, but apparently, they’ve been just friends for a few years.”
“Fraternizing with the enemy.” Maggie tsked. “Rosie will have a fit. She seems very competitive.”
Walker grinned. “That she is. Her husband, Lou, is a member of the Christmas Cruisers, but he got out of choosing sides by working at the diner today. You should let me bring you by there sometime.”
Maggie cut her gaze toward him, making him feel as if he should squirm under her intense scrutiny.
He held her gaze, though. He hadn’t planned to ask her out again.
But the invitation had slipped out naturally.
Her expression warned that he was about to get shot down again.
What was it the guys had said, three times and he was out?
Not liking that train of thought, he rushed on before she said no. Because if she did, that was three.
“We could be just friends like Maybelle and John.” He wanted more but couldn’t say being Maggie’s friend would be settling.
There was something in the way she carried herself and dealt with those around her that said that, if she ever let you in, she would be a loyal friend.
“As far as I’m aware there isn’t a set time frame for making friends, Maggie.
Friendships can happen quickly or take years. ”
Maggie’s gaze narrowed. “You say that, but making friends in Pine Hill doesn’t make sense as I’m only here temporarily.”
Walker would bet Sarah would say she and Maggie were already friends. How would Maggie describe their relationship? Did her lack of wanting to make friends only include men? Or just him?
“You could decide to stay in Pine Hill.” He’d purposely chosen to move there. Now that he lived in the small town, he couldn’t imagine leaving.
“I won’t.” Her tone left no room for doubt.
Still, Walker shrugged. “Never say never.”
“I didn’t say never. I said that I won’t.” She sounded annoyed.
That wasn’t the reaction Walker wanted, so he acquiesced.
“Okay, you won’t stay. That tells me you should make the most of what time you’re here.”
She frowned at him. “I’m not in Pine Hill on vacation.”
“Why are you here, Maggie?” Walker would really like to know.
She’d revealed so little about herself and what little she had just left him curious to know more. Why did he get the feeling there was a bigger picture to her motives?
“What happened that you’re now staying at Hamilton House?”
Maggie’s eyes closed, and for a brief moment, he thought she was going to give him a glimmer of insight into who she was.
Instead, opening her eyes, she turned her attention toward the walkers. “Now isn’t the time to talk about why I’m in Pine Hill.”
“Just say when is the time and I’ll clear my schedule.” Did that count as four? Or was it still part of his third invitation that wasn’t quite a strikeout yet? He was going with the latter.
She turned toward him, curiosity shining in her eyes. “Why would you do that?”
Good question and one he couldn’t fully answer.
She fascinated him and he couldn’t seem to stay away from her even when common sense said he should.
He wasn’t in the dating market. At least, he hadn’t been despite Maybelle’s efforts.
But with Maggie, he wanted to take her to dinner, to open her car door, to sit next to her at the Pine Hill drive-in, and to hold her hand.
He wanted … he wanted Maggie. There was no point in denying it.
He was attracted to her and wanted to peel back the defensive layers she hid behind to learn who she was.
It was more than her outer beauty, although she was certainly a naturally beautiful woman.
He couldn’t put his fingers on it, but he’d felt the pull the night they’d met, and it hadn’t let up.
“I like you, Maggie,” he finally answered her question. “I like you, and I want to know more about you. That’s why.”
“You don’t,” she denied, leaving him wondering if she meant that he didn’t like her or he didn’t want to know more.
Rather than elaborate, she turned toward where the crowd had erupted with cheers again.
Ruby, Claudia, and a few others were making their way to the finish line. “We need to add them to the tally.”